Lady Luck
by Kdnull
Summary: Michael Townley: Average depressed bank robber who is unlucky in pretty much every aspect. His two best friends, Brad and Trevor, are both crazy, his girlfriend is annoying and clingy, and he's one of most wanted men in the American-Canadian boarder. Luck isn't kind to Michael.


**A/N:** Probably only gonna have this one chapter. I like to do short stories and not so much several chapters due to the fact that I lose interest in continuing a story a lot of time. Please note that Tracey is one years old, Jimmy yet to be born. 

* * *

Lady Luck was never on my side.

It was hard to imagine a sentence or scenario that had me and anything to do with good luck together. It was hard enough with the line of work that I was in to pull off a score, to me luck being the determining factor of how well the job went in my mind. Though, I am lucky enough to be alive if you count living being a good thing. I look back on the events that have happened and the only thing I can determine is that the universe simply hates me. Today is, actually, a perfect example. It's a typical day for me. I'm staying in a motel not far from where my girlfriend, Amanda, lives.

I am hiding from the cops due to the fact that I had robbed a few gas stations in a row the night before. I would have gone home normally and kept my head down, but my idiotic and almost tolerable "business" partner, Trevor, told me that I would be safer at a motel. I am not one to argue, even though Trevor says otherwise. I decided that it would be easier to listen to him than to hear several strings of insults to my intelligence and what types of danger I'd potentially be putting Amanda and my one year old daughter, Tracey, in. Besides, living off of instant noodles and reruns of game shows wasn't too bad. I would be doing the same thing if I was with Amanda at her place, except I'd be hearing her tell me how I'm simply a menace and should be put in a mental institution even if I was doing nothing wrong. It was just how the days went by and her baggage of having a short temper was what I dealt with for the sake of keeping our new family together.

I laid on the single dirty motel bed as I stared blankly at the small television set that played a mixture of static and "The Price is Right". I closed my eyes and attempted to sleep after listening to contests who clearly had no clue how to play the game exit almost completely empty handed. It was an odd thought to me that people could make a million dollars by answering a few questions and getting lucky with numbers and prize wheels. They didn't have to work for their money, unlike me. Well, my job may not be the most honest, but it is still a paying job if I set it up right. Going into a business that was dishonest like bank robbing or selling drugs was just a large game of chance. The odds were always stacked against you that you'd get caught and worst case scenario killed, yet more and more people were trying their hands and taking the chances for the large cash payout. It was all or nothing.

I, though, didn't have many choices on what lifestyle I was going to lead. When high school ended and I was no longer qualified to go to college as a football player, my options came down to work every day at a fast food joint for less than minimum wage or follow a path of lies and broken laws. I was trying to play the hand that I was dealt, but this life didn't suit me. Constantly on the run and watching my back in my own motel room wasn't something I wanted to grow used to, yet I did. Accidentally getting a stripper pregnant off of a one night stand wasn't something I saw in my future, yet it was. The cards that represented my life weren't a winning deal, but maybe if I got lucky enough and played the game long enough I could cheat my way into a good life through stealing and on the run. Once I got enough dirty payouts, I'd be gone. When the time came I'd have to determine who I'd cut in on my share. That includes Amanda and my daughter.  
Though I can't see myself leaving them behind or ditching them for good, I don't know until it happens. I never saw myself as a murderer and thief, but here I am. Here I am exhausted, over weight, and miserable.

Eventually, I must have dozed off, because I awoke to the loud sound of Trevor bursting open the motel door and shouting loudly, "BRAD THINKS HE CAN BEAT ME IN A DRINKING CONTEST!"  
Following Trevor's gruff voice was Brad's, who calmly and barely stated, "I can."  
I kept my eyes closed and pretended to be asleep, hoping that the two would go away. I wasn't in much of a mood to do anything except pity myself for the life I had and possibly dream of being somewhere far away with enough money to keep up my gambling and alcohol addictions going.  
But, unfortunately, I rarely got what I wanted. I felt Trevor crawl onto the bed and hug me from behind, trying to spoon me in an awkward way.

Trevor was taller and skinnier that me, having to bend his knees to his stomach to match my height. He whispered slowly in my ear, his voice still high strung from shouting and being excited, "Michael? Are you awake? Hey, sugar, wake up. Wake up before I start exploring your fat rolls and hidden bits."  
Trevor's cold hands lifted up my shirt and grabbed a roll of pale fat from my side. I instantly opend my eyes and cringed as his hands that felt like ice started tugging on the excess meat. I swatted his hands away, turning to glare at him. His grin and happy response didn't stop me from getting a bit mad. "Dude, can you stop? Can I not get two seconds of rest without you morons attackin' me?"  
Brad snorted, hearing my comment. He leaned against the door as he fired at me, "Attack you? If T wakin' you up from your beauty sleep is 'attacking' you, then you are lazier than I thought."

I sighed and buried my face in my pillow, shaking my head. I hated Brad with a strong passion. Brad was one of those men who always had to be right and always thought he knew best, when in reality he barely knew anything. He always had some egotistical remark that followed with his famous glare.  
Before I could think of a comeback or listen to Trevor press on about doing something, I heard the wall mounted phone ring loudly. I sat up from my pillow and grabbed the ringing device.

I lifted the motel phone to my ear and grumbled, "Hello?"  
Amanda grinned widely from the other line, her breathing uneven with excitement. She happily squeaked, "It's me, baby. Guess what, Michael?"  
I shot Trevor a dirty look as the man tried to lean into the phone to hear the other half of the conversation.  
I asked softly, "What, baby?"  
My girlfriend stomped her feet happily and bursted out in a squeal, unable to contain herself, "I'm pregnant! Again!"  
I felt my jaw drop and my body freeze. No, please, no. It was already dangerous enough to have Tracey with the people out trying to hunt me down. I couldn't do another crying baby that always smelt weird and screamed.  
My hand slowly pulling the phone from my ear as Amanda asked if I was still there after a moment or two of sheer silence. Trevor frowned and eased up, looking at me. He asked, voice filled with concern, "Buddy, you okay?"  
I sat there with the phone in my hand, staring down without moving much.

Lady Luck was never on my side.


End file.
